


Interlude

by MoeLoogham



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asra's Childhood, Gen, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life, The Magician's Realm (The Arcana), arcana spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-31 20:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoeLoogham/pseuds/MoeLoogham
Summary: The Magician was many things, but a parent was not one of them. The Hanged Man shares his concerns, and while the elusive fox appears to have his best intentions, Asra is still left to survive another night alone.A very short fic that may or may not be expanded on. Inspired by the Din Zine.





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of two stories I wrote to apply for a zine called Din. The zine is currently being worked on, and just closed its applications. Unfortunately, I was not accepted, but the mod has graciously allowed me to post this while still mentioning that it is affiliated with a theme that was inspired by the zine. If you would like to know more, go check it out on tumblr, it's going to be a beautiful zine and I hope you all will support it. :)
> 
> This is also my first contribution to the fandom. Depending on how I feel I might branch off into more Hanged Man/Magician ship related stuff, but for now this is just kind of a general fic with an implied, long standing friendship and a sprinkle of smol Asra.

Asra begged to go swimming again and eventually The Magician appeased the child, leading him to the shore. Their grip was lax, the boy’s soft fist curled around three of the Magician’s fingers and swinging lightly as the two of them walked. They knew Asra missed his parents terribly, so they wouldn't deprive him of the physical comfort. 

When the waves gently lapped at their feet, the Magician stopped walking and sat down in the wet sand, releasing Asra’s hand. They reminded Asra not to venture too deep, and let the boy begin his adventure. The eternal twilight sky was painted in deep shades of purple, while the polar lights animated the horizon, giving it an ethereal quality. Moments like this were fleeting, but in The Magician’s realm, where time could stand still, they could be enjoyed without fear of consequence. 

They didn't need to turn around to know who was approaching from behind. Their eyes stayed on Asra, who remained oblivious to the newcomer, too focused on playing with one of the chirping bugs that skipped around him on top of the water. 

“And here I thought you forgot.” The Hanged Man’s voice was amused as he watched Asra as well, stepping beside The Magician’s seated form. 

“Well, the child tends to take priority over a game of cards,” The Magician responded, smiling softly. “We can begin after he returns home to sleep.” 

Eventually, The Hanged Man seated himself down on the shore as well, fingers delicately running through the water as another small wave rolled onto the sand. “Awfully fond of him, aren't you?” 

“He has great potential.” 

“Is that all he has?” 

The Magician returned the question with a brief, sardonic smile, then faced Asra once more. 

True, his care for Asra was dubious. Aside from Asra’s connection to Aisha and Salim, he had no tie to the child. No real obligation to be teaching him like this. It was almost an act of hubris to choose to teach Asra, to offer his tutelage to such a young child regardless of how naturally magic came to him. Or was it an act of salvation? Whatever the reason, The Magician could not ignore the way Asra’s heart shined in his eyes when he did magic, and the deep, thoughtful intuition that he doubtlessly inherited from his masterful parents.. 

“Will you tell him the truth? About his parents?” 

The Magician considered, humming thoughtfully. “You ask too many questions.” 

“Well, my instinct and your true intentions may be two different things.” 

This caused The Magician to turn their gaze away from the child, their expression somewhere between amusement and surprise. “Indeed. Perhaps time will teach you to be less suspicious.” 

“I don’t intend to insult you..” 

“You haven’t.” 

After a pause, The Hanged Man finally spoke of his concerns. “You aren't worried about The Devil, then?” 

“He poses a threat to any of us, but that is a risk I’m willing to face.” 

“Self-sacrifice was never your forte.” 

“Then perhaps you shouldn't assume that I am sacrificing anything at all.” The Magician smiled once more, and then chuckled as they continued to watch Asra, who had finally noticed the visitor. He stood in the water at his waist, the chirping bug bouncing away. 

“I’ll wait for you inside, then.” The Hanged Man said as he stood up, shaking the water droplets from his wings before striding back up the beach. He disappeared behind the invisible curtain, just as Asra waded to the shore and climbed into The Magician’s lap. 

“Who was that?” 

“You didn't recognize him?” 

Asra pondered it, wide eyed and inquisitive. “The Hanged Man. But what’s he doing here?” 

“Visiting.” The Magician said with a smile, tapping the boy’s nose gently with the tip of their finger. “Just like you.” 

Asra looked intrigued, his lips slowly spreading into a dimpled grin. “Will I get to meet him?” 

“Maybe someday. Tonight, however, you need to go back and rest. We’ll continue your lessons tomorrow. I’ll call to you when you’re ready.” 

“Okay.” Asra’s smile faltered a bit, disappointed, but he stood up nonetheless. The Magician followed suit and took Asra’s hand once more, leading him back to their abode. 

The curtain parted, and Asra half hoped to see The Hanged Man there, but as usual, the room that appeared was his sanctuary below the docks. The Magician stopped bringing him to his old home in Vesuvia the very day Asra told them his parents never came back. It was a sore memory. Sometimes Asra didn't understand why his mentor insisted on telling him this was his new home for now. But perhaps it was better for the child to not be given more fuel for the pain that kind of nostalgia could bring. 

As the two of them passed through the curtain, their skin and clothes dried like they were never wet to begin with, and the air smelled of patchouli incense. The Magician knelt down as Asra climbed into the nest of pillows on the floor, and they dragged the quilts up around his shoulders. They ran a gentle hand through his hair, smiling down at him. 

“All will be well, Asra.” 

“Promise?” 

But when Asra blinked, the room was nearly darkened save for the magically glowing lanterns that hung above him, and The Magician was gone. Asra could hear the slosh of water against the docks above, and the cry of sea birds who fed on the fish that emerged as the sun ducked below the horizon. He pressed a hand over his heart, trying to listen to the feeling of The Magician’s words, trying to believe in them despite the cold, harsh reality. Trying to believe that one day, everything would be okay.


End file.
